Snow like a thick quilt

Icicles like crystal bunting

The sun like a tattoo in the sky.

In a sea of happy single people

why am I sadly committed

sitting alone in a frozen house

where time has stilled

and my beating heart

the only thing moving on

this February Saturday,

like a seed that's been planted

and my legs rooted to this place

and my arms outstretched for eternity

fruitless and withering away 

the foliage of my youth turns gray

growing older but never wiser

in these twelve seasons waiting

for someone to cut me down.